Of Bandages and Shattered Images
by Doublebee
Summary: Maka shook her head stubbornly, her hands jerking forward awkwardly to his belt. "Just let me do it, Soul." SoMa oneshot. T only because of language and the adult situation. I'm bad at summaries. :D Read & enjoy!


**I'm on a roll with these fics! I guess that's what happens after you haven't written in awhile…^^; **

**Personally, I seem to like Soul as a Death Scythe much more… I think it's because he matures out of the whole "cool" thing—not that that wasn't awesome. X3 But, yeah, he's a Death Scythe here, which makes Maka a bit older and less… tiny-tit-like. Just so you keep that in mind!**

** Soul Eater isn't mine. If it was, some serious shit would be goin' down. :D**

Maka lurched about 6 feet in the air once she heard to front door being opened and slammed harshly, followed by a loud groan. She sighed to herself with a tiny smile, feeling bad for her weapon who'd just walked in.

Soul was a Death Scythe now, and, as such, trained with both Stein, as well as her father and Shinigami-Sama. There were some nights he'd come home after dinner, and merely pass out on the couch. Those were the nights Maka would set his meal in the fridge, toss a blanket over him, and make sure he looked comfortable before she herself went to bed.

Tonight, however, Soul was groaning like a cow in labor, and Maka was just about at her limit with it. She set her book down on her bed, and quietly sashayed down the hall, kneeling beside the couch where Soul lay, face down in the cushions.

"Rough day?" The sweet girl asked, her hand rubbing calm circles on his back.

Soul nodded into the couch cushions, turning his face completely to the side in order to look at her. Maka half smiled at her weapon, tsking once she saw a bruise on his cheekbone and a scrape next to his lip.

"They work you too hard."

Soul tried his hardest to give a tiny laugh, but it was only a horse sound that rumbled his tired vocal chords.

"Eh, I guess." He blinked a few times before sighing. "I'm not getting up, y'know."

Maka sighed, gently tugging at his dirt-covered jacket. Soul instantly relaxed his shoulders, letting her pull his coat off and half smiling as she draped it over a chair in the kitchen before coming back to sit beside the couch. The female went back to rubbing his back gently, curious green eyes staring at him.

"Your room really isn't that far, Sou—"

He shook his head, moaning tiredly. "Maka, _no_."

She gave up, she wasn't in the mood to argue with him, not tonight.

As Maka continued to rub his back, Soul grew more and more relaxed, nearly falling asleep under her hand. But soon after, she stopped, getting up and making her way down the hall.

"Where are you going?" Soul croaked tiredly, propping himself up on his elbows.

She came back into the room, shaking a small box in her hand, along with a bottle and cotton balls with a smile.

Soul grimaced, sighing. "It's only a few scrapes Maka, really?"

The meister nodded, setting her 'tools' on the coffee table as she stood before him. "Up."

He shook his head, lying back down, only to hiss in pain.

"No."

"Soul, just sit up."

He glared at her like a child. "I said no."

Maka put a hand on her hip, glaring right back at him. "As your meister, you're going to sit up, and you're going to sit up, _now_."

Knowing an argument would get him nowhere right now, Soul sighed as he slowly sat up, crossing his legs under him and setting his hands in his lap.

"There. Happy?"

"Quite." Maka smiled, sitting next to him as she rolled up his right sleeve. "Don't move, okay?"

Soul blew his snowy bangs from his face, looking rather bored. His meister set right to work, soaking a cotton ball in hydrogen peroxide before gently dabbing a bloody scrape that ran up a good portion of his arm. When he fidgeted at the pain, Maka frowned noticeably, and gently pet his wrist.

"It's okay, it's just a scrape." She muttered gently, taking a large padded bandage from the box and carefully placed it over his wound, patting his arm gently after she finished. Then, she moved on to the scrapes the boy sported on the inside of his wrists and palms, dabbing them clean with a cotton ball and carefully laying band-aids over each. When she'd finished this task, she meekly pulled his wrists to her mouth, kissing each one lightly before setting them back in his lap.

"That wasn't so bad, right?"

Soul looked down at his legs, blushing a bit. "No… But that wasn't the one that hurt all that much."

Maka frowned at his words, scooting closer to him on the couch as she ran her gentle fingertips over his shirt as if searching for the wound he spoke of.

"Which one is it, then?"

The scythe blushed more, before lifting a hand to ghost over his hip.

His meister suddenly found herself blushing, too.

Soul's instant reaction was merely giving her a shy smirk, shaking his head a bit. "I-It's fine, I can get to it later—"

Maka shook her head stubbornly, her hands jerking forward awkwardly to his belt. "Just let me do it, Soul."

The weapon fidgeted under her hands, trying helplessly to scramble away from death-by-embarrassment. He did like his meister _more_ than just a meister, but he honestly didn't want her hands anywhere near his anatomy.

At least, not because he had a huge scrape along his hip and lower abdomen.

"Maka, no really, it's fine!"

But the girl wasn't giving up that easy. Maka steadied her gaze at the last three buttons on Soul's shirt, rather than looking at his crotch as she undid his fly, and tugged his pants down a few inches. Her breath hitched in her throat as her hand rested on his right hip, making him hiss in pain.

"Ow! Don't_ touch_ it! Jesus!"

"Sorry!" She cringed back, grabbing another dampened cotton ball before sitting on Soul's lap, her knees on either side of his legs. Soul looked up and away from his meister, trying to settle his hormones as he blushed the same color as his eyes.

_I'll just, count the paint spots on the ceiling! And, hopefully, she'll get off me before I do something I'll regret…_

Maka gently moved the elastic band of his boxers down, exposing a rather red and nasty scrape. She grimaced a bit as she dabbed the wet cotton ball on the wound, making Soul squirm and whine under her. But Maka hardly noticed his discomfort. In fact, she was so intent on cleaning his wound, she didn't notice a certain skanky cat come strutting though the door.

Soul, however, snapped his gaze towards the woman, his red eyes wide in horror as he tried to stop hissing in pain, knowing Blair would mistake the whole situation for something utterly different.

"Hi there, Maka-Chan and Sou—"

Maka whipped her gaze to the doorway, her mouth agape as she straddled Soul's lap. Only then did she notice his heavy breathing, due to the pain she was causing him.

"Umm… Should Bu-Tan go?"

"I-It's not wha—"

"Get _out_ Blair! Go back to work or something!" Soul exploded, a terrifying glint in his eyes, directed at the cat. Blair merely flashed the two a thumbs up before darting out the door with a loud giggle.

Maka blinked at Soul, taking note of his heavy blush. She gave a tiny smile, slowly getting off his lap. She even swore she heard him let out a breath of relief, but that was before she leaned down and placed a light kiss on his hip wound, which was now all fixed up.

"All better?"

"Aside from my shattered image, yeah," Soul muttered, giving her a small smirk.

Maka giggled, her warm hand resting over his for a moment, before Soul leaned over and pecked her cheek, smiling a real smile from ear to ear.

"Thanks, Maka-Chan," Her weapon cooed jokingly. She smiled sweetly, patting his knee before giving a small yawn, and curling up next to Soul, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Mind if I sit here for a little while?"

He shook his head with a smirk, gently working her ponytail holders out of her blonde hair and combing out each freed pigtail with his fingers. Maka hummed peacefully at his hands, and soon found herself asleep against him. Soul, however, laid back on the couch, gently pulling her somewhat on top of him ,due to the lack of room the couch had. He wrapped his arms calmly around his meister, feeling rather comfortable with her warm form pressed against his, and fell into a peaceful sleep.

_If being cool means not loving you, fuck the whole idea._

** Mmm, I felt the need to pull a "nurse" scene with Maka, it just fit. Besides, who doesn't like getting a little touchy-feely SoMa action? C; Hope you enjoyed, if you didn't, that blows.**

** Review? Me gusta. :D Kthxbai.**


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